I was the snare which was
set to entrap the birds whose feathers my husband was to pluck. If I
had been like other women, my position would have been utterly
intolerable to me. I should have found some means of escape from a life
so hateful--a degradation so shameful."
"And you made no attempt to escape?"
"None. I was a gambler; the vice which had degraded my husband had
degraded me. We had both sunk to the same level, and I had no right to
reproach him for infamy which I shared. We had little affection for
each other. Colonel Durski had sought me only because I was fitted to
adorn his reception-rooms, and attract the dupes who were to suffer by
their acquaintance with him. But if there was little love between us,
we at least never quarrelled. He treated me always with studied
courtesy, and I never upbraided him for the deception by which he had
obtained my hand. My father disappeared suddenly from Vienna, and only
after his departure was it discovered that his fortune had long
vanished, and that he had for several years been completely insolvent.
His creditors tittered a cry of execration; but in great cities the
cries of such victims are scarcely heard. My reception-rooms were still
thronged by aristocratic guests, and no one cared to remember my
father's infamy. This life had lasted three years, when my husband died
and left me penniless.
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